


Disciplinary Action

by thesadchicken



Category: Frasier (TV)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Disciplinary Fantasy, Dom!Daphne, F/M, Handcuffs, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, sub!Niles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28690152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: “I’m disappointed in you, Dr. Crane,” she says, slapping the end of her nightstick into her left palm. “You’ve been terribly disobedient.”Daphne and Niles act out a fantasy.
Relationships: Niles Crane/Daphne Moon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Disciplinary Action

**Author's Note:**

> _“[…] the gleam of her jackboots, her dangling nightstick, the glint of her handcuffs hanging on her leather belt. You're off on some lurid little disciplinary fantasy.” ___  
>  **—season 3, episode 20; Police Story**

Daphne paces in small circles, over and over, her languid strides both graceful and menacing, her hips swaying with the motion. Niles’ eyes follow her, and she bites back a smile at the hunger she reads in them.

“I’m disappointed in you, Dr. Crane,” she says, slapping the end of her nightstick into her left palm. “A man of your standing should be setting a better example. You’ve been terribly disobedient.”

She hears his sharp intake of breath, sees him swallow heavily as his legs inch further apart to accommodate his growing erection. She stops pacing for a second and watches him. He’s slightly dishevelled, hands cuffed behind his back, sitting upright to minimize the strain on his arms. Shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, handcuffs gleaming at his wrists. Helpless, vulnerable, _irresistible_.

“Do you understand why you’re here?” she resumes her pacing, circling him. “Do you know what you’ve done wrong?”

“Yes,” he answers eagerly, chest heaving with anticipation.

This time she does smile, flattered by his enthusiasm. The fact that he lets it distract him from their little role-play amuses her, but she doesn’t want to spoil the fun. Biting her lower lip, she slowly drags her nightstick along Niles’ jaw, then uses the end of it to tilt his chin up.

“I don’t think you do,” she purrs. “I think you need to be taught a lesson. I think you need to be… disciplined.”

He shudders, and the way he looks at her—eyebrows curving upwards imploringly, pupils dilated and burning with need—makes her own desire pool between her legs, hot and urgent. She slides the nightstick down the side of his neck, over his chest, then lower, lower, until it brushes over his clothed cock. He tenses up, back straightening out as much as it can.

Before she can stop herself she’s grabbing his tie, pulling him towards her and pressing their lips together in a searing kiss. He kisses her back, fervent and desperate, and for a moment she feels him struggle against his bonds, aching to touch her. She pulls away from the kiss, pausing when their lips are just barely touching, and he whimpers in frustration.

“Now, now, Dr. Crane,” she whispers against his mouth, “You know better than to question my authority, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” he breathes.

“And you will never disobey me again?”

“No ma’am.”

“Good,” she straightens up, taking a step back and tossing the nightstick aside. Her fingers reach up to absent-mindedly flick the buttons of her shirt, undoing them one by one. “Because I’m going to take my time with you…” Her shirt falls to the floor soundlessly, revealing the lace bralette she’s been wearing underneath. “…and you can only come when I allow it. Understood?”

His gaze sweeps over her and stops to admire her nipples poking through the lace. “Perfectly,” he sighs, biting his lower lip.

She slips her hand into his hair, pulling his head up roughly so he’s looking her in the eye. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says obediently, and she can’t help but notice the trembling in his voice.

Her fingers disentangle from his hair and fall to his cheek; she caresses it with the back of her hand. “That’s better.”

She watches him melt into her touch, turning his head slightly to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. He’s lovely beyond words, and she can’t get enough of him. Those ocean eyes, completely devoted to her, look up at her now with a sort of reverence that almost unsettles her… God, she could just eat him up.

Instead, she kicks off her boots and very slowly bends over to pull her trousers down, turning in a graceful half-circle so that her backside is exposed. She lingers there—displaying herself for Niles, who groans in response, squirming in his chair. She straightens up languidly, her back slightly arched as she steps away from her trousers and stands before him in nothing but her bralette and knickers.

Niles takes a deep, shuddering breath, and once again tugs at the handcuffs. He quickly stops—Daphne suspects the movement was involuntary, and decides not to punish him for it. Her eyes fall to his lap; to the bulge tenting his trousers. She straddles his thighs, deliberately rubbing herself against his straining erection. He moans, rock hard and trembling, and she cups his face in her hand and kisses him.

As promised, she takes her time, running her tongue over his lips, then just inside of them, tracing their outline. With a low groan, he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth. She feels him harden against her, and the tension gathering in her own body is almost painful at this point. For a moment she thinks she might just put an end to their little game and ride him into oblivion, but ultimately she knows it’ll be worth the wait.

Breaking the kiss, she pushes herself back a little. Then, using one hand on his chest for leverage, she reaches between them, pushes her knickers aside and touches herself. Niles looks down, panting, and moans miserably.

“Please...”

“Begging already?” she teases, letting the back of her hand press against his clothed cock as she moves her fingers over her clit. “I’m not done with you yet.”

She tilts her head back, exposing her neck, and her hair flows down her shoulders where she knows he’s dying to lean in and breathe in her scent. He tries to thrust up, half-delirious with lust.

“Patience,” she says, carefully loosening his tie with one hand. The silk is Tartan patterned, soft against her fingertips; she remembers him wearing it the night he shared this little fantasy with her. Smiling at his meticulous attention to detail, she unfastens his suspenders—her hands trailing over his waist as she does so—and unbuttons his shirt. He waits, shoulders tense with pent up desire, and she decides to reward his patience.

Dropping to her knees in front of him, she undoes his fly and tugs. He lifts his hips off the chair to assist her as she pulls down his trousers and underwear, finally freeing his aching cock.

“You seem to be enjoying your punishment, Dr. Crane,” she raises an eyebrow at him, feigning disapproval. “Maybe I should leave you like this, hard and wanting…”

“No, please,” he whimpers.

“Mm,” she tilts her head to the side, pretending to think it through. With a pensive pout, she runs her palms up his thighs, lets them hover a few inches over where he wants— _needs_ —her to touch him. She can tell it’s taking every ounce of his self-control not to buck his hips.

He looks so delicious like this, restrained and helpless, that she just has to taste him. She grips the base of his cock, and he jerks upwards with a moan. Lowering her head, she licks from the base to the tip before closing her mouth around him with an appreciative hum. He gasps and writhes beneath her as she uses her tongue on him, working him until he’s trembling.

“I’m—I’m going to come,” he stutters, the need urgent in his voice.

She stops suddenly and looks up at him, lips red and swollen and wet with saliva. “Not yet,” she says, pushing her knickers down with one hand, and he watches as she wriggles them down over her thighs and pushes them away. Sliding back onto his lap, she pulls her bralette over her head and tosses it on the floor.

“You’re a naughty boy, Niles,” she whispers, wrapping her fingers around his cock and pumping mercilessly. He’s gasping, trying and failing to control his increasingly loud moans, and she loves seeing him like this—face flushed, lips parted, eyes closed…

She’s managed to keep a careless expression so far, but the truth is she’s just as desperate as he is. And as much as they would both enjoy a little more torment, she really can’t wait another second. Her hand slides to the base of his cock, lining him up, and then she’s slowly lowering herself onto him, inch by inch.

“Daphne!” he cries out in pleasure, and on his lips her name sounds like a miracle, a wonder, like he still doesn’t quite believe he’s allowed to be hers in this way—hers entirely.

When he looks at her there’s a sort of breathless gratitude in his eyes, and she leans in and gently presses her mouth to his. It’s as if time has stopped; it’s only them, and _god_ , she could live in this moment forever. But her body wants him urgently; there will be time to chase eternity later. Right now the need to ride him is unbearable.

She steadies herself with one hand on his hip and starts moving up and down, losing herself to her desire and to the sounds he’s making. Head thrown back, body shaking; he is desperate and aching and _perfect_. Her free hand moves up his chest, grazes his throat, and stops just below his jaw. She grasps his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Naughty boys have to beg for what they want,” she pants as she picks up the pace, voice quivering with pleasure.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t waste a second. “Please…”

She lets out a breathy sigh, and her movements become frantic, erratic—it’s _so_ _good_ and she’s _so close_ —all she needs is to hear him say it… “Not good enough. What do you _want_ , Niles?”

“I want to come,” he sobs, hips snapping up sharp and fast. “Please, I need— _please_ let me come.”

“Not… just… yet…”

“I can’t, _please_ ,” he begs.

His desperation is enough to send her over the edge; she comes, crying out in bliss. Her orgasm is long, shuddering, violent; she trembles all the way through it. He watches every single moment of it, concentrated entirely on her, his own needs momentarily forgotten. It’s that look of wonder again, like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Her movements slow down. She leans in and presses their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

“Your turn,” she whispers.

He comes hard, jolting with the force of it, thrusting up as he spends himself inside her. The sound of his pleasure fills the room; a long drawn out moan—her name, like a prayer. She holds him through it, closer than ever.

The first thing he says, once he’s caught his breath, is, “I love you.”

Daphne nuzzles his neck, overwhelmed with affection, and says, “I love you too.”

Their lips meet, and it’s messy and lazy and oh so soft, and they both smile into the kiss.


End file.
